


I've Been Missing You

by harryismymuse



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Harry, Daddy Kink, Fluff, Harry in Panties, I put Daddy kink but it's subtle and they break "character" a lot, M/M, Panties, Post-Zayn One Direction, Reunion Sex, Reunions, Smut, Spanking, Top Zayn, very light angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 02:49:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5113376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harryismymuse/pseuds/harryismymuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been eight months since Zayn's seen Harry, but when he gets a drunken voicemail from him saying he misses him and wants him to come over, Zayn wastes no time showing up on his doorstep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Been Missing You

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something I wrote to cure a little writer's block I had. I wasn't planning on posting it on here at first, but I kinda like the way it turned out! This is definitely one of the dirtiest things I've ever written - like seriously, shameless - but I hope you like it.

Zayn pulled into the driveway and killed the car’s engine. It was well after midnight and he couldn’t see a damned thing; he’d turned off the headlights about a mile out, rolling down the street at a maddening crawl until he reached Harry’s address. His fingers were already tingling in anticipation, and he couldn’t help but give himself a once-over one last time in the rearview mirror before stepping out into the warm LA air. 

It’d been almost eight months since they’d last seen each other—Harry’s doing, not his. It was all cordial for the cameras, but behind the scenes, things had been more than a little rocky. 

The doorbell sounded entirely wrong when he rung it, standing there awkwardly on the enormous front porch. He half expected a camera flash when he peered over his shoulder, blinding him, making him shield his eyes. It was risky, coming to Harry’s place like this. But when he’d gotten the message the day before—a giggly, somewhat drunken confession on his voicemail—he’d booked the first flight from London to LA he could find. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe it was completely stupid of him, and he shouldn’t even be there… but Harry’d said he missed him, wanted to see his face. And a drunk man never lies. 

Zayn’s just about to knock instead, thinking maybe Harry missed the high whine of the doorbell, but before he can, the door swings open, and there he is; Harry Edward Styles, in the flesh. Grinning at him. 

“Hello,” He says, rolling the word out, his grin widening impossibly. Zayn could cry at how much he missed his voice. The deep, syrupy melody of it, hanging between them like a peace offering. They closed the gap between them at the same time, wrapping each other up in a hug so tight it nearly crushed ribs. 

“Hey babe,” Zayn breathed into Harry’s hair, beaming like an idiot. He’d told himself he’d be cool. Casual. Not get his hopes up. But he hadn’t seen Harry in months, and all his preparation flew out the window the moment he laid eyes on him. “I like the hair,” He mumbled, resisting the urge to run his fingers through it as they pulled apart. It was well past his shoulders now, twisting in dark silky ringlets all the way down. 

“Thanks,” He said, pushing a lock of it behind his ears. “Come on; let’s go inside.”

 

He’d been in Harry’s house more times than he could count, but a lot had changed since his last visit. Paintings on the walls switched out or replaced, furniture and other belongings pushed around so much that he nearly tripped over a potted plant on his way into the living room. It was near dark in the whole house, lit only by a small lamp here, or a few candles there. Typical Harry. But Zayn kind of liked it. 

The two of them settled down onto one of the plush black sofas, Harry snuggling a throw blanket up to his chest and looking at Zayn with thoughtful green eyes. 

It wasn’t awkward. Things were never awkward with Harry. But Zayn felt like he should say something nonetheless. He just didn’t know what.

Harry helped him out with that.

“So I drunk-dialed you.” He stated, blunt as ever. But there was a small smile on his face.

“You drunk-dialed me.” Zayn repeated, allowing himself a laugh. 

“And I said I missed you…” Harry continued, quieter now. “I wasn’t lying.”

Zayn feels something break in his chest. “I know,”

“You missed me, too.” It wasn’t a question because he didn’t have to ask. Zayn was there, on Harry’s couch. He’d booked a flight just to see him, on the off-chance that maybe they could talk. That maybe he could see his face again. 

“You have no idea,” Zayn almost whispered it. He hated himself for the way his voice cracked like a little boy, showing the vulnerability he’d tried so hard to hide. “I’m sorry… for everything. I said some things to all four of you that I didn’t mean, but especially you, Haz. And I’m so sorry.”

Harry pressed his lips together and seemed to think for a moment before nodding. “You were stressed out. You couldn’t keep going on like that, I understand. We all do.”

“Yeah?” Zayn knew there was a lot more that needed to be said. More apologies to be made, on both sides, but he didn’t want to think about that right now. He just wanted to feel relief in knowing that Harry accepted his apology, that he’d missed him, too. 

“Yeah,” Harry smirked and nudged Zayn with his socked toes. “Now get over here.”

Zayn shrugged off his jacket and kicked off his shoes before moving closer and opening his arms for Harry to curl up in. He let out a little satisfied huff when he finally settled against Zayn’s chest. “I wasn’t that drunk. For the record.” Harry muttered after a while, his lips brushing against the fabric of Zayn’s shirt as he spoke. 

“Hm?”

“I was a little tipsy, but I remember what I said on that message.” Harry said. “…all of it.”

Zayn felt something simmer under his skin. He breathed in a little sharply then, his fingers grasping a bit tighter at the extra flesh of Harry’s side. “So the last part, when you said you wanted—”

Before he could finish, Harry’s fingers were already ghosting over the buttons of Zayn’s shirt, undoing them one by one. Every time a patch of skin was revealed, he moved to kiss it, lick it, bite it so lightly it made a shiver run up Zayn’s spine. God, the things he could do with that mouth.

Zayn groaned, letting his head and arms fall back against the pillows. It wasn’t long before Harry climbed down to the floor to kneel between Zayn’s knees, peering up at him through his lashes as he nipped his teeth along the jut of his hip bone. His hair hung like a wild curtain over his face, tickling skin as he worked him with his mouth. Zayn reached out and swept most of it away from his face, only to end up holding it there, hand buried deep in the mess of curls. 

Harry palmed him lightly through his jeans, smirking when he felt him thicken at his touch. 

“Stop teasing,” Zayn huffed.

Harry looked up at that, smirk widening into something more devious as he moved from between his legs, crawling up to straddle his lap instead. “What are you gonna do about it?” He whispered into Zayn’s neck, licking up the light sheen of sweat there. He was asking for it—begging practically—for Zayn to make it like old times. Harry teasing and teasing until Zayn punished him for it, made him sob into the pillows with his hole so pink and sensitive even the kiss of the air was too much to bear. 

If that’s what Harry wanted, that’s what he’d get. 

“Up. Now.” Zayn slapped his ass, hard. Glared at Harry until he grinned and slowly climbed off of him. He was already so hard, dick straining painfully against the confines of his jeans. Probably leaking enough to leave a wet spot… Zayn took a deep breath. “Wipe that grin off your face, Styles. You want to be punished?”

Harry immediately bit his lip, forcing a serious expression. “I do.” He said quietly. 

“And why is that?”

Harry tugged one arm behind his back, suddenly swaying shyly from side to side and casting his eyes down. When he spoke, it was such a small voice that if Zayn hadn’t seen his lips moving, he wouldn’t have believed it was his. “Because I’ve been very bad, and I need to learn my lesson.”

Out of sight, Zayn’s fingers dug into the back of the couch, knuckles turning white with the effort not to grab him right there and fuck him face down into the rug. “That’s right. Have you been bad while I was away, too?”

A little secretive smirk came over Harry’s face then, a single dimple burrowing into his cheek. “I was very bad while you were away.”

Zayn bit his lip so hard he almost drew blood. His voice was choked off and low when he spoke again. “Bedroom. Now.” 

 

“Don’t move a muscle.” Zayn hissed into Harry’s ear when they were standing in the middle of his bedroom a minute later. He circled him like prey, looking over his still-clothed body in hungry appreciation, feeling those bright green eyes watching his every move. “I’m going to teach you how to behave tonight.” He gripped Harry’s jaw in his hand suddenly, noticing the way his thumb pressed into the soft pillow of his cheek. “Gonna make you scream for all the bad things you did while I was away.”

Harry let out a soft whimper at that.

“I want your clothes off now.” Zayn said, dropping his hand from Harry’s jaw. Then, before Harry could lift his fingers to do anything, he added, “—Do not move.” 

Zayn turned the act of undressing Harry into a delicate art form. Wanted to savor every second of it, because Harry was gorgeous—undeniably beautiful from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet—and Zayn wanted to take his time.

His own shirt was already unbuttoned and hanging limply at his sides, so when he moved in closer to Harry and lifted his soft cotton t-shirt over his head, their bare chests touched in the exchange. Zayn could feel the puffy nubs of Harry’s nipples grazing his skin, and he reached up to tweak one, earning a surprised gasp. 

Harry’s shirt fell to the floor in a flurry and Zayn just admired his long, lovely torso for a moment. The tattoos trailing down his arm, the way his muscles moved beneath his skin as he breathed. Harry watched him the whole time, that thoughtful frown on his face. It made Zayn want to kiss him, so he did. 

“Am I still being punished?” He whispered against Zayn’s lips after awhile, grinning. The kiss had been slow and especially sweet; the kind of lip-locking associated with late night cuddles and bed-bound Sunday mornings.

Zayn caught himself and huffed, kissing Harry one more time before grabbing the little chubs at his hips and whirling him around so that his ass was pressing up against his erection. “Hush, babe.” He murmured, reaching around Harry’s waist to begin undoing the fly of his jeans. The two of them were facing Harry’s full-length mirror now, so when Zayn began tugging Harry’s pants down bit by bit, they both watched as pretty red lace became visible along the line of Harry’s pelvis. Zayn’s breath caught in his throat, and the sound he made was almost guttural. “Did you put these on for me?” He whispered into Harry’s ear, sliding his hands over the little red panties, feeling the barely-concealed length of his erection underneath, straining. Harry nodded, making little noises of pleasure as Zayn’s hands slipped underneath the fabric and stroked him off a bit. “I’m gonna leave them on you, let you get them dirty.” Still watching their reflection in the mirror, Zayn started the tease of running his hands up and down his thighs. 

Harry’s hands twitched, anxious to touch himself and find relief, but he knew better, so he held still, even when Zayn took his balls in his hands and massaged them one by one.

“Za-a-yn,” Harry stuttered, his soft plea turning into a groan of pleasure. 

Harry was extremely responsive, just like he’d always been. Zayn smiled, remembering all the times he’d teased Harry so thoroughly that he’d come completely untouched. He didn’t want this to be one of those times, though. 

He slapped Harry’s ass again, harder now, so the sound carried around the room. Harry cried out and bucked his hips forward, eyes closed as he tried to slow his breathing. Zayn saw in the mirror the way his legs were trembling miserably, a tell-tale sign that he was getting close. He kissed Harry once on the cheek and led him towards the bed. 

 

“On your belly,” Zayn ordered, and Harry obeyed, crawling onto his bed and sprawling out face down, his legs so long that his feet touched the edge of either side of the bed. He was spread so wide already, but Zayn came up behind him and pushed him wider still. Enough that, through the lace of the panties, he could see the pucker of muscle around his hole flex with every breath he took. Zayn licked his lips, wanting to just dive right in and eat him out until he was coming all over the covers. But he would be patient. 

Harry kept his toys in the bottom drawer of his bedside table. Zayn reached over and sifted through the small collection of them for a minute or so before deciding on a simple black plug. He grabbed the bottle of lube that was there too, and spread some over the plug before sliding the panties aside and pressing it up against Harry’s entrance. He slapped the back of Harry’s thigh lightly. “Relax, babe,” He urged. Moments later he watched as Harry breathed out slowly, loosening up his body for Zayn until the plug slid in nice and tight. He whined a little at the sensation, hopelessly trying to grind back on the plug even after Zayn had let go. 

“I want you,” Harry panted into the pillows, completely wrecked by now. Zayn had to hold his hips still just to keep him from rutting against the bed covers. Zayn’s dick throbbed miserably in his jeans. He wanted to fuck him so bad he could barely think straight. But that wouldn’t teach him anything. Harry wouldn’t learn his lesson. 

Zayn gripped two handfuls Harry’s ass cheeks and squeezed, hard. Probably a little too hard. Harry cried out in pain and surprise, the sound ripping up Zayn’s spine. 

“Fuck,” Harry gasped, bucking down roughly against the sheets beneath him, Zayn’s hands still gripping his ass. “Harder,” He pleaded. 

“Are you enjoying this?” He smacked Harry’s ass cheek with so much force that his own palm stung from the contact. “How many men did you let fuck you while I was gone? Hm?” He slapped again, in the same spot. “Give me a number,”

Harry yelped into the pillow with every blow, whimpering loudly, nearing sobs. But he pushed his ass back against Zayn’s hands, begging for more, his movements making the plug bulge out of his hole like an invitation. 

“Too many to count, huh? Do you let them fuck you in these panties, or just me?” Zayn’s next slap was enough to make Harry’s whole body jolt on impact. He whimpered high and loud, then dissolved into muffled moans. 

“Just you, just you—” Harry gasped into the pillows, his entire body shaking. Zayn was holding his hips again, keeping him from finding friction in the sheets. Harry groaned in protest, his neglected erection caught between his belly and the bed. “Please, let me come,”

“Flip onto your back,” Zayn ordered, tapping Harry’s side. Eagerly, Harry did as he was told. The panties were still on him, although they were leaving nothing to the imagination. Harry’s dick was halfway out of them, angry red and leaking onto his belly. He looked like a work of art. 

Harry groaned and clawed his fingers into the bed covers when Zayn took him in his hand and swiped the excess cum away from his tip with his thumb. He offered it to Harry and watched him lick it into his mouth and swallow it down. “Good boy,” He said softly, cupping Harry’s cheek in his palm. He kissed him once, quickly, then moved down along his body to rest between his legs. 

“Want you to fuck me,” Harry moaned, tangling his fingers in Zayn’s hair and tugging a little aggressively until Zayn hushed him and demanded for him to keep his hands clasped behind his head. 

“Behave yourself…” He warned, slipping his finger under the waistband of the little red panties and pulling up harshly. “…or I might change my mind about letting you come tonight. Might just tie you up like this, leave you here to learn your lesson the hard way.”

Harry shook his head abruptly, eyes shut like he was in pain. “I’ll be good,” He promised. “I’ll be good for you.”

Zayn smiled at that, loving the way Harry’s words sounded so sincere, a plea to let him have one more chance. He placed his hand flat against Harry’s belly and rubbed gently, feeling the muscle flex beneath his palm. Harry squirmed a little, sighed at Zayn’s touch. 

In the bedside table drawer, Zayn also found a purple vibrator. He turned it on low and ran the tip of it up along Harry’s dick. The shock of it made him curse out loud. “Like that?” Zayn hummed, turning up the vibrations a bit. Harry’s back arched, and whimper fell from his lips. He fucked up along the vibrations, desperate for the friction. Zayn watched, mesmerized, until he could tell Harry was getting close, legs trembling, braced for the inevitable tumble…

“Zayn, please!” Harry cried out loud when the vibrations left him, his body tense against the mattress. He’d been so close—a second longer and he would’ve come; Zayn knew his body well enough to know. 

“You’ll come when I tell you to.” Zayn said, squeezing at Harry’s balls and earning a pitiful little whine. “I want you to show me. Show me what you did to them.”

Harry’s pupils were blown, his irises completely dark except for a thin ring of green around the edges. “Who?” He panted.

“Up,” Zayn flicked his wrist, signaling Harry to get off his back. “Come here.”

Zayn sat back against the headboard and undid his own fly, fumbling around a bit until he had his pants off, along with his shirt and socks, tossed onto the floor somewhere across the room. Harry waited patiently, kneeled at the foot of the bed, waiting until Zayn signaled him to come closer. 

Zayn watched the red lace stretch and cling to Harry’s body as he moved, barely holding in a damn thing yet still so lovely a sight. He might never let him take them off. “Settle down right there, babe.” Zayn instructed, voice softer than before. He watched Harry shuffle up between his legs and lean back until his butt sank to the bed. “Show me. Show me how you sucked them off, and I’ll let you come.”

Harry took Zayn’s dick in his hand without another word, dragging his palm slowly up his length, collecting the cum dripping down from the tip and smearing it around with every stroke. Zayn’s head lolled back against the headboard and he closed his eyes, trying to steady himself and breathe. Harry didn’t even have his mouth on him yet; he was going to have to chill. “Go ahead, babe,” Zayn coaxed, reaching out to play with a lock of Harry’s hair dangling over his face.

Harry made an eager noise in the back of his throat and bent over to slip his lips over the head of Zayn’s dick, already gliding his tongue over the sensitive slit. Hissing, Zayn moved his fingers deeper in Harry’s hair, muttering encouragement. 

Harry took him well, creating suction with his lips, pressing the hot, wet length of his tongue to the underside of his dick and bobbing his head slowly up and down. Zayn dug his fingers deeper into Harry’s curls and began thrusting down his throat. Harry hummed happily, even as he gagged a little and a tear or two rolled down his lovely pink cheeks. That was one of the things Zayn loved about fucking Harry; he was always so damn enthusiastic. 

Zayn cursed as he felt a growing heat twisting down near his pelvis. The way Harry was working his tongue, sucking Zayn’s dick like he was trying to turn him inside out, he wouldn’t last much longer. He let Harry take him down his throat one last time before he tugged at his hair a little and murmured for him to sit up. 

“Wasn’t finished,” Harry protested, a frown on his face. His lips were plump, bright pink, and dripping wet with spit and Zayn’s cum. 

“Gonna fuck you now, babe,” Zayn rasped, making grabby hands at Harry until he moved closer and Zayn could settle his hands at his hips. “Gonna fuck you with your panties on.”

They kissed, Harry licking into his mouth almost aggressively as Zayn fumbled to pull the plug out. Harry moaned loudly as he did, then whimpered unhappily at the sudden rush of cool air on his sensitive, stretched entrance. Zayn traced the rim of muscle there, then pumped a couple fingers into him, making sure Harry was ready to take him. Harry was practically panting for him by the time Zayn slid his panties to the side and pressed the head of his lubed-up dick to his hole.

“You ready to come?” Zayn asked, cupping Harry’s face in his hands. Harry nodded and bit his lips, eyes fluttering as Zayn teased him, moving his dick in small circles around his rim. “Learned your lesson, baby? Gonna be a good boy for me now?”

“I’ll be good for you,” Harry rasped, sounding completely fucked. “Only you,” He added in a whisper, leaning in to lick along the curve of Zayn’s ear, suck on his lobe. He was ready. So ready. And Zayn decided it was time to give him what he’d been asking for.

 

“Fuck, Harry—Jesus,” Zayn cursed the moment he started pressing into him. Even after the plug, he was still so fucking tight. Practically gripping him, luring him into the warmth. 

“Feel so good,” Harry mumbled, bent forward, head resting on Zayn’s shoulders as he sunk down on his dick inch by inch. “So good to me,”

When Zayn finally bottomed out, he just held still for a moment, not breathing, just feeling. He was buried deep. Could feel Harry’s ass cheeks brushing the tops of his thighs, his balls sitting heavy on his pelvis. Zayn’s hands on Harry’s lace-bound hips tightened, and he breathed in slow, preparing to fuck him. But Harry beat him to it; started grinding down on Zayn, bouncing lightly on his dick and grunting into his shoulder. 

“Fuck,” Zayn muttered again, more of a sigh than anything else. He kissed the top of Harry’s head as he picked up speed, watched the curve of his spine dip and rise with every circle of his hips. Fucking gorgeous.

“Zayn,” Harry mumbled in between moans, gasping or crying it out. His dick had all but completely escaped the confines of the panties, and Zayn could feel the warmth of his cum leaking in long strands onto his stomach. “Touch me,” Harry pleaded, riding him so hard now that the slap of their skin echoed throughout the room. 

And Harry had been so good, so well-behaved, that Zayn indulged him, wrapping his hand around Harry’s dick and stroking him off in time to the rhythm of his hips. Harry cursed out loud at how good it felt, practically mewling for it; tossing his head back, hair flying. It wasn’t long before he was coming in long white stripes over his butterfly tattoo, Zayn milking him through the whole of it until Harry shuttered at the over-sensitivity. 

Zayn took over then, letting Harry lean against him, completely fucked out, just leaving hot little opened mouthed kisses along the side of his neck, whispering encouragement. He sounded so gone; like he was floating somewhere high up, unable to stay tethered to his own body. Zayn loved it, missed it more intensely than he’d realized. He hushed him and scratched his head lightly, asking him to stay with him for just a little longer.

Harry reached back and spread himself open a little wider, coaxing Zayn to fuck him faster, harder, until he wasn’t just saying the words, but begging for them, his thickening dick already flushed with anticipation again. “Come on, baby, fuck me,” He panted, a desperate edge to his voice that was almost cutting. “Harder,” He leaned in, let Zayn suck on his lip and lick into his mouth distractedly as he plowed into Harry’s poor abused hole. Zayn was breathing hard, grunting, digging his fingernails so deep into Harry’s hips he would undoubtedly leave bruises. After a while his thrusts became erratic; unpredictable, deep plunges, hard-slapping and obscene, like he was trying to brand Harry’s prostate with his mark, make it his own so everyone knew it. 

Zayn came hard, grunting from his toes, curling into himself, eyes squeezed shut and seeing white. He spilled his entire load into Harry, then pulled out and slid the pretty red panties back over his hole, feeling them grow wet with his leaking cum. Harry shuttered and reached back to touch around for himself. His eyes got big with surprise and he turned to Zayn, jaw slack. 

“Want you to go to bed like that,” Zayn murmured, pulling Harry closer to kiss his forehead and down his nose. “Want you to have me all over you when you wake up. Leaking out of you, messing your panties, ruining the sheets.”

Harry sighed, made a sound at the back of his throat and rutted down onto Zayn’s lap. He was hard again, needing, wanting. Zayn grinned and reached around him, into his panties to wet his hand with slick and cum, then used it to lube up Harry’s dick again. When he stroked him off that time, it was slow and unhurried, Harry fucking up into his palm as they kissed. Zayn licked into his mouth, playing with the backs of his balls and enjoying the little grunts and whimpers Harry couldn’t help but make. That time when he came, it was less forceful, instead just leaking out in big white globs over Zayn’s fist. Zayn lifted it to his mouth then, licking it up and swallowing it down, making Harry laugh. “Premium stuff that is,” Zayn muttered, chuckling. 

 

Later that night, in the back of the house where he couldn’t be seen, Zayn stood outside in full dress again, smoking a cigarette and gazing down at the twinkling LA lights. Maybe if it were anyone other than Harry who snuck up on him then, he would have startled, but he barely even flinched when he felt a slim arm slide through his, and a headful of curls tilt to rest precariously on his shoulder. 

“I’ll save you the trouble,” Zayn mumbled, smiling around a draw from his cigarette. “Yes, I see the moon, and yes it is beautiful tonight.”

“Piss off, I wasn’t even going to say that,” Harry protested, bumping Zayn with his hip awkwardly while still never leaving his side. “Now the stars—there’s something to look at.”

“Ah, alright,” Zayn chuckled, placing his cigarette on a concrete ledge nearby so he could use his free hand to cup the back of Harry’s head and bring him in for a kiss. They’d done it a hundred times that night alone, but he never tired of it, not once. 

“I feel sticky,” Harry murmured suddenly, matter-of-factly. He was wearing a long chocolate-colored robe that reached halfway down his calves, but it was hanging open, sash dangling on either side, untied. He was naked underneath, except for the red lace panties, and Zayn felt something tighten within him at the sight.

“Sticky, babe?” He asked softly.

Harry nodded, eyes big and deceitfully innocent. “I like it though. I like feeling filled up by you.”

“Fuck,” Zayn muttered, sighing and leaning forward to bite along Harry’s neck. “Is it still coming out?”

Harry grabbed Zayn’s hands and slid them into the robe, around his hips, down the back of the panties to feel the substantial wetness there between his cheeks and along the sensitive little ring of his hole. Harry hummed at the touch, causing something to twist in Zayn’s belly that had him groaning aloud. 

“You’re so wet,” He said, looking up at Harry.

“I love it…” Harry replied, gaze unwavering from Zayn’s. “Stay a couple days. Stay here with me.”

Zayn’s heart sped into overtime. He felt a little dizzy. “What about your other… you know….lovers.”

Harry smirked. “I was just firing you up a bit. More fun that way.” Then, more seriously, “…there isn’t anyone else, not really. I tried dating some… but…it’s just you. Only you.”

Zayn grinned, felt something prickle at the corners of his eyes as he settled his hands along Harry’s hips again. “Only me,” He repeated, letting the words sink in, take root in his mind. “Same with me. I want you to know. There were a few others but…”

“Only me.” Harry interrupted, an amused expression on his face. “I get it.”

“Get over here,” Zayn laughed, pulling Harry into a kiss before he had a chance to say anything else. “I’ve missed you, babe. So much.”

Harry draped his arms over Zayn’s shoulders, locking his hands together at the back of his neck. He grinned at Zayn, cheeks flushed pink and dimpling the way they did when he couldn’t stop smiling. “Missed you more.”


End file.
